


Your blood

by TiaMalefica



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, Eventual Smut, Family Secrets, Friendship/Love, Lavellan/Solas Angst (Dragon Age), Love Triangles, Magic, Multi, Not Beta Read, Post-Canon, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC, Regret, Sorry Not Sorry, Unplanned Pregnancy, Weird Plot Shit, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:14:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28551447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiaMalefica/pseuds/TiaMalefica
Summary: It's been five years since the man they all thought was a mere elven mage, a friend and a lover revealed himself to be way more.The  re-structured Inquisition struggles, trying to prepare for an invisible yet very true threat looming over all of Thedas while the threat himself struggles to move forward with his plans.With everything being at a standstill, both sides look for anything that could help their cause but fate--or whatever--is a cruel mistress, since the key to solving their problems rests in the hands of a child. A child, few people know exists.~This is going to be a long one and I'll tag as I goHope you like it♥
Relationships: Blackwall | Thom Rainier/Female Inquisitor, Blackwall | Thom Rainier/Female Lavellan, Dragon Age: Inquisition Inner Circle & Female Inquisitor, Female Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan/Dorian Pavus, Female Lavellan/Solas, Fen'Harel | Solas/Female Lavellan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	1. Greetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (special thanks to @FenxShiral for the Elvhen)

The Fade is a magnificent place; ever-changing and yet ever-familiar to elven apostate standing in the middle of some ruins. If someone were to gaze upon him in that moment, they would say he looked almost serene. Serene but lost in a dream daze. But if one were to look closer—deeper—maybe they’d see and feel his anguish. Mind heavy and full of dark thoughts was all that remained from the man he once was. Or maybe he’d always been that.

No, even he knew that was not the case. There was a time, not long ago, when he was different. Felt different. He knew not, however, how many years that had been. It could have been days since he had last left the Fade but it could also have been years. Time was a funny thing in there, especially for someone like him. Fen'Harel the elves called him; The Dread wolf, the god of betrayal. But he scoffed at those names his people had given him. Lord of Tricksters, Bringer of Nightmares…So many names people called him but none really knew who he was. Did he even know anymore? Debatable. Even his soul-name felt foreign to him now

_Solas._

Ah. An echo—no, a fragment of memory—suddenly shook him from his trance. He’d lost count of how many times such a thing had occurred since—

Since he left her. Yes. That wisp of a woman he once called his. His heart. The memory of the young Lavellan haunted him more than any nightmare in the Fade ever had or could. And what a woman she was to have affected him so. A great one, indeed. That one person had the power to single-handedly change everything, turning the world upside-down for everyone in Thedas, including him. Was it fate that had brought her to him? Was it “grand design”? Or was she just extremely unlucky to have stumbled upon Corypheus and Divine Justinia as she did? And did it really matter? No, he had decided. But what did was his weakness. Slowly but surely the silver-haired woman had crept into his heart, captivating him with her charm and wit and wouldn’t let go. 

He remembers how often he was left awestruck by her since the very beginning. Mere curiosity about the Dalish mage in the early days of their acquaintance lead to something…more. There was something about her everyone seemed to have been drawn to. And no, it wasn’t just the big, glowing mark on her hand that made both mortals and spirits gravitate towards her or the stories of her being the Herald that came with it. She was more. She had to be, for his feelings to make sense. Without knowing exactly why, he had in fact succumbed to whatever power she had over him. With a passion completely foreign to him, he had let himself sink deeper and deeper into her love to the point of drowning. Some days he wanted to forget it all. The plans he had for the People; his whole life’s work seemed trivial when he had that woman in his arms.

But ultimately, he decided, that’s all she was: a woman. It almost felt like his own feelings were mocking him at some point, scrutinizing him for being led so astray of his path. And so, he betrayed her, left her behind in the Crossroads and never looked back. He didn’t look for her since, didn’t have his spies report on her personally or even visited her dreams. Cutting her out completely has tough but imperative for him to move forward and do what had to be done. He struggled with that temptation over and over again, aching to just “take a peek” to check how she was doing or what she had been up to but managed to keep such wants at bay. However, due to how slow his progress had been with the matters of the Veil lately, he found his thoughts wander to her often. And it hurt.

Lately, he had spent a lot of time conversing with any spirits that would stumble across him by chance on their way to do whatever it is they did in there. Solas had always enjoyed the company of spirits more than that of other people, a fact that had troubled many that knew so. To most, spirits were just spirits, others confused them with demons or something equally vile and evil but he knew better. His vast knowledge of the Fade and everything that it encompassed, along with his true love for it, led him to discover how fascinating spirits really are. Though he knew to avoid some pesky ones, he welcomed most. He had good friends among them and took time to talk even to the random passer-by. Such a thing would be strange to most people he knew but ultimately, one didn’t have much choice if they wanted to…socialize in the Fade.

As a long sigh echoed through the emptiness of his surroundings, a warm, bright glow began to take form near him. Solas turned on his heels almost immediately to face the source. His sharp features were immediately bathed in a strange, green light as he looked straight into the weird…thing in front of him. It looked vaguely like a small person but featureless since all he could see was green. It was nothing like he’d ever seen before in the Fade and since he considered himself an expert of sorts, he was immediately fascinated.

“Greetings, spirit” the strange green glow spoke in a small, distorted voice.

Did this thing thought of him a spirit? How cute.

“Hello there,” he replied.

“You look weird, mister. Even for a spirit,” it said in clear confusion.

“Likewise,” Solas pointed out honestly.

That seemed to confused the glow even more as it took a while to answer him. “Me? I’m not a spirit!”

He actually chuckled at that. “Well, neither am I”.

“You sure? Then what are you? A demon? A god? Maybe a spirit that is not smart enough to know they are a spirit? Hmm…”  
“I suddenly feel insulted,” he said feigning hurt feelings. 

“Oh,” exclaimed the being “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. You just don’t look like a spirit but I’ve only met spirits here before”.

“Many things reside in the Fade other than spirits. And I’m definitely not one of them”

“Hmm. Maybe. But there is something off about you, mister. I can feel it.”

“Off?” he asked, truly interested, “Off how?”

“You have the appearance of a common elf but you feel…dangerous”.

Solas was baffled by this strange creature. This was nothing like any conversation he had experienced with a spirit before. Some of its remarks seemed completely unconventional for a spirit.  
“Ah, I see it now. It’s not you,” it continued, “it’s the wolf. He’s the dangerous one”.

“The…wolf?” Solas was at a loss for words.

“Yes. You know him. Six red eyes, three on each side and fur black as the night. Is he your friend, perhaps? I didn’t mean to be rude to him”.

“…”

“Hmm,” it said once again. “What is your name?”

His name. Well, that was complicated.

“What is yours?” 

“Oh. Is it a bad name? Are you embarrassed? Maybe you don’t have one? I don’t know if spirits have names…”

Solas could almost hear another ‘hmm’ coming and as much as he wanted to tell the strange form in front of him—once more—that he was not a spirit, he yielded.

“Why don’t you give me one?” he proposed, amused.

“Oh! I would love to! You can give me one, too, then!”

“Sure.”

“Then…how about Fen’an? It seems appropriate”

Solas was taken aback by the elvhen name. Wolf heart. Indeed appropriate. Scary even.

“Then you should be…Leena,” he said.

“Is it elvhen, too? What does it mean?

“She who shines,” he answered and smiled. He could almost feel the form smiling back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading chapter 1!  
> These first few chapters are going to be rather small but from chapter 6 onwards, they're gonna be double and triple this length. 
> 
> This is dedicated to all who are still in Solavellan hell.


	2. Lost and Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going back to the day of Corypheus' defeat, we see how it all began.  
> (TEENY tiny little flashback chapter)

~Approximately seven years ago~

As the celebrations of Corypheus’ defeat rage throughout Thedas, the Inquisitor cannot escape the feeling of dread that has suddenly overwhelmed her. She should have been celebrating, dancing around some fire or playing Wicked Grace with her friends in some dusty-old tavern in the very least, drinking copious amount of alcohol. Preferably not the Qunari type, though. And yet there she stood, hands resting at the railing oh her Skyhold balcony, waiting. For what, she was unsure. Maybe for someone. Or for the other shoe to drop. And did it ever.

“Inquisitor,” Leliana approached from behind her, swift and quiet as a shadow. “a word?” There it was, thought the Inquisitor. The other shoe.  
“Of course. What is it, Leliana?”

“I…don’t know how to say this, Inquisitor,” she said weakly.

“You’re scaring me now. Tell me, what is the matter?”

“I am not sure,” she hesitated, “but no one seems to be able to locate either Warder Blackwall or Solas, Inquisitor. It is as if they vanished into thin air”

Her heart dropped to the floor. She grabbed the railing tighter that before, trying to support the weight. Her legs seemed to have forgotten how. She didn’t dare turn to look at her yet, hoping that by doing so, Leliana would just laugh and tell her it was just a jest. But was that something she would really do do? “What do you know as of now?”

Leliana hesitated again and approached a bit more from the back “Nothing. When I found out Solas was missing, I asked around and realized Blackwall was also gone. I—I thought than perhaps Solas could have been…preoccupied but it seems that isn’t so.”

Normally, her words would have warranted a blush but the Inquisitor didn’t feel particularly cute at that moment. 

“Maybe they just went somewhere to celebrate?” she asked, hoping for any kind of explanation.

“All of Blackwall’s things are missing which would suggest he just…left. As for Solas, I’m sorry but I have no idea. I even asked Cole if he knew anything but he said his connection to the Fade is not what it used to be. He can’t really tell if Solas is there or just…isn’t”

That was quick thinking. She hadn’t even considered the possibility of Solas going into the Fade. It was a sound assumption to make, considering. But the possibility of him celebrating their victory in there, didn’t make her feel any better.

In fact, she felt sick. Really sick. A moment before the room went spinning, she turned, passed by Leliana and headed for the closest bucket.

“Inquisitor!”

As she knelt in front of it, emptying the context of her stomach many times over, Leliana ran after her. She felt her linger there behind her like before and did her best to get up. How she had the mind to keep up appearances at that moment was beyond her. She wiped her mouth and faced Leliana who looked probably as pale as she did. “Apologies. But I need you to keep this quiet, at least for tonight,” said the Inquisitor not missing a beat. When she saw Leliana’s confusion she added “Let the people celebrate tonight. We can tell them about Blackwall and Solas tomorrow”.

“Of course,” Leliana said and noded, still visibly perplexed.

“But I need you to start looking into it immediately. If something has happened, we must know sooner than later. Get the ravens and start working on this as soon as possible.”

“Understood. Have a good night, Inquisitor.”

“Good night, Leliana.”

Who was she kidding? It wasn’t going to be a ‘good night’. Trying to escape the festivities in itself was almost impossible, not to mention trying to fully process the news of the disappearances. Blackwall left and Solas disappeared. Not something she would’ve expected from either of them. The music in Skyhold drowned her thoughts as people dragged her from dance to dance and from table to table. The vigil for the dead had ended hours ago so most were currently drunk or really drunk, dancing all around, inside the walls of the hold. 

Cullen sat in a corner, laughably drunk and next to him was Josephine, supporting his head with her shoulder. At a table near them, she saw Varric pouring a drink for Cassandra who was mumbling her refusal while he laughed, downing his drink shortly after. While Bull’s crew was out and about, doing something that mildly resembled both dancing and sparring, he was celebrating somewhere more private, the Inquisitor surmised, and she could also guess with whom. She didn’t have the strength to look for the rest, though. She knew they were there somewhere, having some well-deserved fun. 

She sneaked out of there, hoping no one noticed and she suddenly found herself outside the stables. Curious, she stepped inside. Leliana had been right. There was no sign of the Warden anywhere. Only his little project, the small rocking griffon, stood there on top of his usual bench. She approached it, feeling a sudden need to pet it but something caught her eye. Something dark in color peaked through a pile of straw next to the bench. She brushed some of it off to uncover what seemed to be a blue envelope, sealed with the Warden seal. She picked it up quickly and turned it around. The word “Inquisitor” was written in black ink on the back of the dark paper. Curious once more she broke the wax seal and began reading the letter that was enclosed. It read:

_My Lady,_

_I congratulate you on your victory. What you accomplished today was no small feat and I was honored to fight by your side till this day. I am beyond grateful for all that you have done for me but it is time for me to go. I humbly ask of you to forgive me leaving without words and beg you not to look for me. I am well aware that if you wanted to, you could but I hope that you respect my wishes and let me go in peace._

_I pray the Maker keeps you safe_

_Yours,  
Warden Blackwall_

At least he wrote a letter, she thought. The Inquisitor read through that a couple more times and pocketed it. The Warder had some explaining to do and he wasn’t the only one. But it was a start and she was fully intent on finding him with no regard for his wishes. 

“Looks like you got your panties in a twist, Lady Inquisitor.”

The voice made her jump but she steadied when she recognized the accent.

“Sera! Why are you here?” she asked, facing the blonde elf standing with arms crossed near her.

“I could ask you the same. Why is the Inquisitor not celebrating with the rest of us after her huge victory? Weird, innit?”

Both fell silent for a moment. It was Lavellan who spoke first. “Okay, Sera. I’m going to tell you something but you mustn’t tell a soul. Not tonight. I will tell the rest tomorrow. And I might have a favor to ask.”

“Ooh, mysterious,” she said, licking her lips as if she could taste the secret.

~

A month passed in agony with no word from Solas. As for Blackwell, things were coming along well. The spies had finally tracked him down and apparently had some disturbing things to report. The Inquisitor read the report as soon as she recieved it, tore it up and went to pack almost immediately. In a few days she was standing outside of a cabin, in the most remote part of the Storm Coast. Dismounting her horse, she stepped towards him. He was kneeled on his porch, carving what seemed to be a chair and had his back to her. The sound of her boots on the mud alerted him to someone’s presence. With the reflexes of a warrior, he pulled out his sword from somewhere near him and turned to face his visitor, only to stand there frozen until she spoke.

“Morning. How about we talk about something called ‘respect’, Warden? Or is it Thom Rainier now?”

“M-my lady?” he said dumbstruck.

She held a hand to him and continued “Don’t even give me th—”

A sharp pain pierced through her stomach like an arrow, folding her in two and throwing her to the ground. The last thing she remembered before blacking out was the Warden’s arms, warm and strong, carrying her inside.


	3. Mamae

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look at the Inquisitor's life in the present. Things are...different.

Toes dipped in the cold water of the hidden spring, she breathed in the wet air. She reached down to scoop some water up with her hand and let it drip freely between her snow-white fingers. As she watched the ripples forming in the surface, a strange thought came to her. Will this be here if we lose, she wondered. Will it be different? Will the world somehow retain some beauty if he succeeds? Beauty of course wasn’t her biggest concern. She knew that if the Wolf had his way, the world as a whole would never be the same. A shiver came over her at the thought and not due to the chill of the wind or the water pooling around her bare feet. Mass destruction. A wound from which Thedas would never recover. Seven years had passed. Seven years of fear and uncertainty; of secrets and enemies in the shadows. Seven years without him.

She wrapped an arm tightly around herself, fighting the shakes. She wasn’t expecting that last thought. Why, after all this time? Why did she still linger? She wasn’t that person anymore, so why? Blood rushed to her head, anger taking over. She stepped out of the water, swiftly putting her leather footwraps on. 

I’m not that person anymore 

She repeated that phrase again and again in her head. As if that would make her feel any better. As if the guilt and shame she carried with her everyday would just go away like magic. A bitter laugh escaped her lips as she left the creak behind and headed towards her home, a small cabin hidden somewhere in the Storm Coast’s woods. Familiar voices and the melodic giggling of a child, pulled her out of her stormy thoughts, like the sun rising on a cold, wintery day.

“Mamae!”

A halla-like child, ran out of the cabin and hugged her tenderly. Her chin rested on her belly, as she looked up and into her mother’s eyes. Silver-like blonde tufts of hair, a few shades darker than her own, framed her face and her bright smile. She was a child of pure white, her rosy cheeks the only semblance of color. Her eyes shone gray and if one didn’t know any better, they’d think mother and daughter shared the same color. But there was a ring of violet there, subtle and hidden, like a secret one had to try really hard to unveil. Looking back at her daughter’s eyes, the Inquisitor smiled and held her closer with her good arm.

“Dhavera! Aren’t you cold? Why are you outside dressed like that?”, the older elf scolded.

The small elfling stepped back from her embrace and gave her a mischievous look. “Uncle Sparkles is here!” she said with a voice like a bird’s song.

“Now, who taught you that, little lady?”

Uncle Sparkles—no, uncle Dorian—stepped out of the cabin hearing his old nickname. The Inquisitor hadn’t seen her good friend the Magister in a while but he looked unchanged. He might’ve been wearing fancier clothes now—if that was even possible—but he was still the handsome, rebellious mage she once met in Redcliffe’s Castle and who had been by her side ever since. He gave her one of his usual, charming smiles, the right side of his lips curling up as he saw his good friend staring back at him in surprise.

“Dorian!” she exclaimed giddily.

“No, seriously, who taught her that?” he said dismissing her and turning his attention to the girl.

She buried her face in her hands, eyes peeking slightly from her small fingers. The tips of her ears betrayed her, turning bright pink in a heartbeat. “I can’t tell you.”

“Apologies, that would be me.”

“ _Of course_ ,” Dorian’s exasperation was heard before the other man joined them outside, " _why_ am I not surprised”. 

Thom Rainier settled next to him looking anything but apologetic. He was a big, burly man, shorter than Dorian but no less fierce. With an equally big heart, he was one of her most important people. And not just hers.

“Uncle Dorian, you should respect babae. He’s your elder,” Dhavera pointed out.

He looked back and forth between Thom and the Inquisitor; his eyes full of questions he chose not to voice in front of the child.

“That’s right, da’len,” Thom said proudly, “Respect is important”. He waved his hand towards her and added “Come, help me with something inside”.

“Respect is earned, Warden! Remember that!” Dorian shouted playfully at him as Thom dismissed him with a gesture and disappeared inside with the girl.

When they were alone, Lavellan grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him slightly. 

“Are you done?”

He looked at her and smirked. “Oh, no. Not even close, love.”

She sighed and lead them a bit further away from the cabin. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

“ _When_ did she start calling him her dad?!” he asked sounding almost scandalized.

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s been a while. She just pointed at him one day and said ‘Hmm. Okay, you are my babae now. And don’t say no’, and that was that I suppose.”

He looked troubled. A deep crease formed between his dark brows, bringing them together.

“Come now, Dorian. Speak what you wish. You’ve never been one to shy away from such things.”

“I was just wondering,” he let his words trail off for a beat until he continued “I mean, did something prompt that? Did she see mommy getting close to the hairy old man that lived with them and decided to call him that?”

“Dorian!”

“What? You said I could ask!”

“Dorian…” she warned with a growl.

“It’s not a big deal, love. Maker knows I’ve made odd choices in partners before myself. Once or twice.”

“Ah, speaking of which—”

“Before you ask, no. Nothing’s changed. Bull’s in and out of my life as usual.”

She shrugged innocently “I didn’t say anything, did I?”

“Oh, ha, ha. Look at you being all cute. And don’t change the subject!”

“Look. Things are good with Thom. He is—”

“A good man with a good heart?” Dorian interrupted rolling his eyes.

“And a good father. He’s done so much for me and Dhavera. He’s kept us safe and he didn’t have to step in when he did. When I wake up screaming from nightmares or when I’m too tired to get up and prepare a meal after a long journey, he’s always there. All he’s ever done is give. I don’t even deserve him.”

“Darling,” Dorian stepped close enough to cup her face with his hands. Her eyes were glistening as she looked back. “You can’t define your worth like that.” He moved his head down to touch her forehead with his own, hands steady over her cheeks. “No man, no matter how sweet, should make you feel less than. Kindness is not something you give to get something in return. It is the things you do and say because you care. And good for him if he’s that great. But don’t try to reciprocate things you might not feel, just because you think you owe him.” 

Lavellan was struck speechless. For a heartbeat she considered his words. Were things really as he said? Was she so lost in this newfound domestic bliss that she had been fooled by her own feelings? Did she not care for Thom the way he cared for her? She could feel doubt circling around in her head, threatining to smother her in more guilt, before Dorian decided to snap her out of there with his voice.

“Do you understand?” he said forcing her to look at him.

With an inaudible gulp and no words, she nodded in reply and let a single tear escape from her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> *Mamae: Mother  
> *Babae: Father  
> *Da'len=child, young one  
> *Dhavera=The name derives from the words Dhava(Kiss)+Era(Dream) in the elvhen language. I thought it was appropriate ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ ♥


	4. Dreamer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lavellan confesses. The girl flees.

Finishing up with their meal, Lavellan knew that her time was almost up. She had to speak with Dorian; explain why she sent word for him to drop everything and come find her. It was not a small ask to make to the Magister but she was more than glad that he came so quickly. If her suspicions were correct, things were about to get very complicated for her and her family. 

Dhavera got up as soon as she was done eating and ran straight for the stables. Thom kissed his Lady on her cheek and followed the bouncing elfling right away.

Dorian and Lavellan went outside shortly after that, settling on the hand-carved, wooden chairs of the cabin’s porch. They had full view of the shed that Thom had now converted into a small space for their mounts. Thom’s Anderfel Courser and the Inquisitor’s Dalish mare were getting lots of attention from Dhavera at that moment, with Thom helping her out.

“She’s grown so much,” Dorian said, sighing. “And she seems to know her elements already. She actually zapped me when I…commented on her dad’s cooking, earlier.”

“Yes. She is really good with magic for someone so young.”

Dorian immediately sensed her hesitation. “But?”

“I’m not worried about her setting something on fire, Dorian, although that has also happened. To Thom’s beard, too.” 

He laughed. “No wonder he started trimming that hideous thing…”

But Lavellan was clearly not in the mood for jokes. She gave him a warning look and then continued. “I contacted you because I fear something’s changed. Something’s happening to her.”

“She…looks fine.”

“She isn’t. Sometimes, I catch her spacing out for long periods of time and she doesn’t move a muscle no matter how long and hard I shake her. She’s always tired in the mornings and when she wakes, she sometimes falls in another one of those...trances.”

“Have you asked her about it? Maybe it’s just bad dreams?” Dorian said, resting his chin on his hand.

“I did. If there’s something going on, she won’t say. One time she even got mad when I pressed her for answers.”

“You don’t think—”

They looked at each other knowingly and Lavellan already knew they were thinking of the same thing. “Yes. I do. I have come up with two possible explanations, one worse than the other. She’s either a Dreamer manifesting or someone is visiting her dreams.”

“Maker’s breath. A Somniari? Aren’t they basically extinct?”

She shrugged. “Solas was the only one I even knew of and since she’s his blood…”

“So, she’s either entering the Fade on her own or someone is pulling her in there? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not paranoid!” she almost screamed. 

“I’m not saying you are!” he said, raising both hands in the air. “I’m trying to process this over here!”

“I’m sorry to put this on you. I really have no one else to turn to. I know some things about the Fade but not enough to deal with this.”

“My knowledge on the matter is also limited,” he pointed out, sounding defeated. “Have you asked Cole? He seems like the obvious choice here.”

Lavellan nodded affirmatively. “I sent for him, too. He should be on his way right now.”

The second she spoke of him, Cole appeared in front of them, standing close enough to touch. None of them had noticed him approach the cabin, let alone the porch but there he was. He was apparently as quiet as he was when he was more spirit than human.

“Speak of the…young lad.”

“Hello,” he greeted in his usual, monotone voice. He looked them over once, like he was trying to read them but said nothing. 

“Did you have a safe trip?”

“Yes. It was safe,” said the boy, nonchalantly. 

“I see some things haven’t changed,” Dorian pointed out and nodded.

But Cole wasn’t paying him much attention. His eyes were on the little girl brushing a mare at the stables. He looked at her for the longest time in silence and then, without turning his head, spoke again. “So bright. Blinding. Danger. The light is too bright.”

Lavellan’s usually pale face, drained completely of color as soon as she heard him. She looked like she was about to faint. “What do you mean, Cole?”

“The child. Like the Mark. Once on your hand now gone. Gone and inside her. It wants to go.”

“I need a translation,” Dorian interrupted.

But she understood exactly what Cole was saying. “Does she shine like that mark to you? To other spirits?”

Cole finally turned to face her, probably sensing her distress. “Yes. Bright. Brighter. Almost blinding. Everyone and everything can see her.”

Lavellan’s eyes darted back and forth between her daughter and the boy. She lingered on his face, hoping for any sign she had misunderstood his words. But alas, there was no such thing for her to see.  
“I thought she’d be safe. If I hid her well, I thought—I—” she got up suddently, feeling the urge to run. Instead she stood there, frozen in place from fear.

Dorian sprung up as well and tried to shake her out of it but to no avail. “Hey, pull yourself together, love. It’s okay. We’ll figure this out.”

Whether the boy understood or not he didn’t seem to care enough to mind his words. He looked at the child once more and tilted his head to the side. “They’ve seen her and she’s seen them. In the Fade. She did.”

A yelp suddenly left Lavellan’s lips as Cole’s words sank in. If he was right, then what were they to do about it? How could they possibly hope to keep her hidden and safe from it all. She felt dizzy. Or whatever one feels when her worse fears come true.

“Shh.” “Hush now. Don’t be like this. You don’t want them to see, do you?” Her friend’s reassuring hand felt warm on her shoulder. “Come, let’s get you some water. Let’s think this through.”

With the sun properly set and her daughter—hopefully—asleep in her bed, she sat with Thom and her friends at the dining table. It was the first Thom was hearing of anything related to Dhavera and the Fade but he looked extremely composed. They had to give him that. 

“Were going in circles. And you know I don’t like circles!” Dorian exclaimed about four hours into their conversation.

“Of course, we are. We are basing all of this in speculation!” Thom looked at Lavellan realizing how unsupportive that had sounded and added “I’m not saying it’s not a possibility but we don’t even know if she’s a whatchamacallit.”

“A Somniari. A Dreamer,” Lavellan explained. 

“Right. That.”

“But what do we do if she is? We can’t just let her take midnight strolls in the Fade like it is no big deal!”

“Oh yeah. Let’s just strip her of her powers then,” Dorian said clearly jesting.

“Totally,” Lavellan continued, “that is exactly what we’ll do. Make a six-year-old Tranquil, take her magic away and also watch her lose her mind in the process!”

It might have been the darkest of humor but no one laughed, regardless. Tensions were high again with no one really knowing how to proceed. And then they all heard it. Floorboards creaking right behind them. With incredible speed, Lavellan was up and opening the door that joined bedroom and dining room together. 

“Da’len? Are you awake?”

There was no answer, of course. The girl was gone. An ear-piercing scream filled the night air, almost loud enough to reach her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next few chapters are going to be a bit longer. This chapter, although important, was just a bunch of dialogue. Sorry about that :/ . I also bumped up the rating for...*ahem* reasons.


	5. Far yet near

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas loses it.  
> Lavellan losed it a bit more.

"Fen'an"

A familiar voice filled the void of the Fade. Solas looked around in confusion, trying to visually identify the source.

“Leena?”

His question echoed through the space around him and in a beat, a peculiar orb of green light appeared next to his head. 

"Help me," it said to him. "Take my hand."

And with that, something peeked out of the orb—an arm, he realized, extended towards him. This had to be the strangest experience he's ever had in the Fade. And he was definitely willing to explore whatever this was. Solas extended a hand towards the ghostly limb and found himself getting sucked into a vortex. Lights spun green and gold as he was pulled through a tunnel of glowing orbs. The force that was twisting him around slowly turned into more of a breeze, soft and gentle, carrying him towards the end of the tunnel. White, blinding light almost burned his eyes when his feet finally touched ground.  
When his eyes had finally adjusted, he managed to take a careful look of his new surroundings: gloriously tall trees with blossoming branches swayed sweetly in the wind, a blanket of fragrant grass covered every inch of the ground as far as the eye could see. Little ponds of water sprinkled around the glade, joined through tiny rills, forming into a bigger pool in the center. There in the middle of the pool, stood what seemed to be a young girl—an elfling. As he walked towards her, a huge smile appeared on her face.

"You're here!"

Solas was still at a loss for words. He had no idea what this place was or how he'd come to be there. He wasn't even sure if he was still in the Fade itself. Everything felt too real—too bright—for it to be a Fade dream and at the same time, the energy in that place was not completely unfamiliar.

"You seem upset," the girl spoke again, managing to successfully get his attention this time. 

"Who--"

A loud 'hmm' came from the girl, followed by her crossing her arms in front of her. Her pale, blonde hair fell on her right, equally pale shoulder as she tilted her head. She scanned him head to toe with her big, elven eyes as if trying to figure out why he appeared so confused.

"Are you...Leena then?" he took a guess.

A hint of realization glinted in the girl's eyes as she snapped a finger in the air. Solas jumped slightly at the sudden gesture. "How silly am I. You've probably never seen what I look like before. Spirits often told me I looked like a fiery light to them."

"This is what you really look like?" he asked, not fully convinced. Could this be a trick? Some kind of demonic magic? It didn't quite feel like it but...then what in the world was this?

She simply nodded, not really sure why this was so surprising to him. "You seem different, too." 

The little elf came closer to him and extended a hand, just like the green orb had done earlier. This time, she reached for him to rest her hand on his chest, right above his heart. Her palm against his coat radiated strange but pleasant heat that spread outwards, almost enveloping him in an invisible embrace. The warmth immediately dissipated, as if never there, when she pulled away. She smiled once more when she saw the perplexed look still on his face.

"You look better. Your wolf friend seems calmer here."

"What is here, exactly? What is this place," he asked, gesturing around them.

"I…don't know. I found this place when I escaped. I just made it look a bit prettier. Do you like it?"

His head was spinning but something she said seemed to have caught his attention. "Escaped? Right. You said you wanted my help earlier."

"I think they can't follow me here. That's why I came. If they can't find us, they can't hurt us, right?"

Solas didn't know how to answer. He didn't know what this place was, let alone where. But the girl sure looked terrified of wherever she was before.

"They thought I wasn't listening but I was hidden behind the door," she continued, much to his relief, seemingly not expecting an answer. "They said they wanted to take my magic away. That me coming to the dream world was dangerous. They wanted to keep me away. So I left and came here."

"You...came here? When you were not asleep?"

At first, Solas had started to wonder whether he was talking to a young Dreamer. Although rare--especially for someone her age—it wouldn't be completely out of the question. But the way the girl spoke made it sound like she literally fled into the Fade, body and soul. And that was beyond anything a regular Dreamer could do. Beyond anything he could even do. 

"Yes. I got really scared and then the lights pulled me here. It was kinda scary here, too, at first. But then I made it look a bit prettier. I like forests."

Unbeknownst to the smiling child before him, Solas was losing his mind in front of her. As outrageous the girl's claims sounded, he would actually dare say they made some sense in a very...nonsensical way. She was a Dreamer but not quite just that. And that's when he understood why the place he was in felt so odd. This child, the girl he had once fondly named Leena, had formed her own pocket inside the Fade. A semi-physical place of in-between, just like the Crossroads and many other pockets of not-quite-the-Fade he knew of but never understood how they came to be. And on top of it all, she had managed to pull him in there. What kind of power did this tiny creature have hidden inside of her? The possibilities and implications of it all seemed endless; the questions even more so. 

“I figured it out, you know. You are like me! I’m sorry that I called you a spirit. I know you are not one now”

"Like you?"

"A Dreamer? I heard them call me that. And now that I know you are like me we can help each other. You'll be safe here, too."

Solas envied the girl's naiveté. She wanted to protect him. Then again, when he thought about it, she was probably more capable to handle whatever threat she thought she was up against than he was. There was no point in telling her that, however. How could she possibly begin to comprehend the things he barely had a grasp on at the moment? She was currently, for all intents and purposes, just a scared kid asking an adult to help her; the what with and the why were still unclear to him.

“Who is it? Who is trying to take your magic away?

The girl seemed almost in the brink of tears as she bit her lip and looked away from him.

“You can tell me, da’len. Who is after you?”

“My family. They said th-that my magic was dangerous. Why would they say that? Why would they want to take it away?”

“How could they—” 

“You will help me, right? Help me hide? Will you help me if they find this place?”

The girl turned to look at him with gray eyes clearly wet. She tugged the end of his coat with her small hand in a pleading manner. The helplessness in her voice made the Dread Wolf's heart ache.

“Yes. I will," he told her. He wiped her now wet cheek with a finger and finally smiled back, reassuring her.

“You swear it?”

“I will keep you safe. I swear it.”

Meanwhile, somewhere far and yet quite near, a crazed Lavellan was pacing frantically inside the small cabin in the woods. She had just watched her only child disappear into thin air before her eyes. To make matters worse, three sets of eyes were looking at her in complete disbelief.

“Are you sure she just…” Dorian made an audible ‘poof’ and a gesture with his hands to emphasize.

“If you ask me one more time, Dorian, I might just incinerate you. I told you I saw her. I saw her disappear in the green light!”

“The Fade. She sings to it. I felt it,” Cole added, much to her despair.

“It can’t be,” Thom blurted, “she can’t physically be in there!”

“What if she can! Or what if someone took her there? What if _he_ took her there?” Lavellan yelled.

“Can he even _do_ that? I don’t think—” 

Dorian was interrupted by Lavellan shoving his shoulder. He’d never seen her like this before. Fighting Archdemons, she did with a smile. Losing her daughter made her look—and growl—like one. 

“How should I know! Do I look like a Dread-Wolf-powers-and-beyond expert?”

“No, but you—” Dorian stopped himself just in time. He figured telling her she knew him best wouldn’t do her much good. Or him, for that matter; he’d probably get incinerated. “But as far as we know, no one can just pop into the Fade like that.”

“So, what do you suggest, Dorian?”

“We need help. So we go get it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I...My brain hurts.  
> And that's the tea.


	6. Where the sky is held

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lavellan seeks the help of friends back home.

Lavellan was more than happy to see the old Skyhold cable lift back in working condition. The trip to the mountains had taken more days than originally expected and she was glad to know that she and Cole wouldn’t have to ride all the way up to the hold. The temperature dropped around them as the lift approached the top. Spring hadn’t reached the mountains yet and snow still clung to the ground. The chill lacked the wetness of the coastal air she was used to but she welcomed it like an old friend. For a moment she couldn’t help but think back to the snowy days she had spent on the hold all those years ago, drinking strong wine with friends and laughing about silly things they had encountered in their travels the previous days. The second they were off the lift, however, Lavellan’s mind went back to the task at hand, as a small team of guards rushed to their side in a less than friendly way.

“Who goes there?” one of the guards questioned.

“Inquisitor Lavellan,” she answered, straightening her back. “I’m here on urgent business, requesting an audience with Enchanter Fiona.”

The guard who had spoken, a young girl seemingly in her late teens, maintained a fierce look at the sound of Lavellan’s title while the rest of her fellow guards saluted discreetly. The girl spared a look at her comrades, almost chastising them with her eyes. Inquisitor or not, the elven woman and the strange fellow accompanying her were standing outside _her_ gates and it was her duty to treat every unannounced and unexpected visitor as hostile. Lavellan almost smiled at the determination.

One of the older guards ran to a post next to the gate to announce them and ask permission for entry as the rest remained as they were.

“The fortress is buzzing. It must be happy with all the magic here,” Cole told no one in particular as he gazed upon the tall, stone walls of their old home.

“You’re right. It’s probably glad for the company.”

While the guards regarded the duo in confusion, a loud voice from inside the walls called for the gates to open. Lavellan and Cole were promptly ushered inside by a new set of guards who, while still armed with swords and staffs, were not donning any armor. Their arrival was met with various reactions from the residents of Skyhold. Some who recognized the Inquisitor ran up to them and greeted them reverently. Other familiar faces, however, seemed to keep their distance, perhaps more sceptical about the reasons behind the Inquisitor’s visit. When the majority of the crowd dispersed around her, a mage she was not familiar with approached her, giving a polite salute.

“Enchanter Fiona will see you in the Grand Hall,” he said, gesturing towards what used to be the throne room, up the stairs.

“Thank you,” Lavellan answered politely as she took one last look at the people and began ascending the main stairway. They seemed happy—thriving really. As if war had never really touched these people, most of which were actually present during the most trying times of the inquisition. Life goes on, she thought and smiled to herself.

The throne room, now appropriately called the Grand Hall by the College currently residing here, looked very different to what she remembered. Large, woven tapestries with obscure arcane symbols and depictions of myth and legend, adorned the walls of the hall, filling it with vibrant colors from floor to ceiling. The corners of the hall were also filled with such imagery, painted intricately in black and gold. But what really caught the attention of the Lavellan and Cole was the picture on the window glass, once behind the Inquisitor’s throne: A clear, elven figure, holding a sword up towards the sky, with people and green fire surrounding her. The paint on the glass shifted every once in a while, betraying it had been somehow magicked into creating that picture.

“My dear. What a pleasant surprise!”

Cole and Lavellan both turned at the sound of Enchanter Fiona’s voice. She wore a humble mage’s robe, making her look no more important than any of the other mages around. She was, however, Grant Enchanter, a title she had hesitantly accepted as she decided to ‘lead’ the new College of Enchanters. In truth, Fiona had no need or want for such titles. Once the threat of Corypheus was dealt with and the Breach was finally sealed, Lady Fiona had one thing on her mind and that was to reform the College. Soon, with Leliana taking up the role of Divine and the Inquisition settling near her, the new status quo threatened Skyhold with abandonment. But Lavellan, still technically holding the title of Inquisitor, had other plans for it. In an effort to not uproot all the people that had inevitably settled in Skyhold during the inquisition, while also trying to make sure they are well protected if they chose to stay, Lavellan made an offer to Fiona she could not refuse: The hold could house the newly re-established College and in turn, the mages could help protect its people. Resistance to the idea was minimal and so the mages found a new home, deep within the Frostback Mountains.

“Apologies,” Lavellan said with a bow to Lady Fiona. “I haven’t paid you a proper visit in a long time.”

“Please. No need for such formalities, my dear.”

“I pay respect when it’s due, my Lady. And it seems it’s way overdue in this case. I am glad and grateful to see all the people of Skyhold are happy and safe here. And the mages, of course, seem to have assimilated well.”

“I, too, am grateful,” Fiona said, returning the bow respectfully. “I don’t know what the College would have done, had you not allowed us to stay, Inquisitor. It was a great gift.”

“It wasn’t really mine to give, my Lady. You know that.”

Fiona had caught the hidden meaning behind Lavellan’s words. Not many people knew of the revelations that came after the Exalted Council and less so outside of the Inquisition’s Inner Circle. Grand Enchanter Fiona was one of those few whom the Inquisition had entrusted with various information about what took place during that time, a fact that didn’t sit well with the other Grand Enchanter. Lavellan had made it abundantly clear that she favoured the College as allies over whatever Madame de Fer was doing with her followers. But aside from wanting the College to be fully informed about the Dread Wolf situation in case their help was ever needed in the future, Lavellan could not in good conscience let the mages set their headquarters in Skyhold without telling Fiona of the hold’s true history. Ultimately, the Grand Enchanter had accepted the risk of settling essentially inside the Wolf’s den without much thought, much to the Inquisitor’s surprise.

“And yet, here we are. I believe things worked out for the better.”

“Seems like it.”

“So, Inquisitor. What can the College do for you? What brings you here?”

Lavellan hesitated. For what seemed like the hundredth time these last few days, she questioned whether coming to Skyhold was the right thing to do. It might’ve been what she and her friends had agreed on but physically being there made her uneasy.  
“It’s a delicate matter and as you are well aware, the walls in this place have more than just ears.”

Fiona nodded in understanding. “Everything you say to me here will stay between us, Inquisitor,” she reassured. “No man or spirit can overhear our conversation right now. I’ve already taken some…magical precautions to ensure that.”

“In that case, I pray that you listen closely and consider my wishes, my Lady.” With a deep breath, Lavellan braced herself for what she was about to say and for Fiona’s response. “I need to enter the Fade”

The Grand Enchanter had certainly not expected that. A series of expressions flashed briefly on her face one after the other, ranging from dread to utter shock. “Beg your pardon?” is all she managed to say.

“You may not know this about me, my Lady, but I am one of those few that can make contact with the Fade with a certain ease”

“I think that was a well-established fact already,” Fiona noted, visibly struggling to remain calm.

“Indeed. But what you probably don’t know is that I can do so, even without the Anchor.”

“A Somniari, then? Is that what you are referring to?”

“No, my Lady. I am not a Dreamer. Not really.”

“Then…?”

“Her blood,” Cole abruptly jumped in. “She’s more. Power. So much power. One with the Fade. One with the Old World. Still shines brightly.”

“What Cole is trying to explain is that I’ve always had a particular connection to the Fade. I just didn’t realize it before—” she hesitated again, “Before everything happened.”

“Power of blood? Are you claiming to be of Old Blood?!”

“Hopefully enough to make this possible.”

“Forgive me, Inquisitor,” Fiona rubbed her forehead intensely. “I need a moment for my mind to settle.”

Lavellan saw her struggling but knew she needed to push. “I understand this is a lot, my Lady, but time is of the essence here. I need to enter the Fade as soon as possible.”

“Even so, I don’t see how I could help. All mages have a connection to the Fade—maybe not as strong as a Rift mage like you does—but still…I’m just not sure what it is you are asking of me,” Fiona explained, now more curious than distraught. 

“While my knowledge and power of the Fade has grown over the years, I lack some knowledge. Knowledge I will need if I am to succeed in this.”

“You still haven’t told me what _this_ is yet.”

“I just need to enter the Fade. I’ve done it before in dreams but it may not be enough for what I have to do. And if so, I will need help.”

“Our help. The help of Mages.”

“Yes.”

“And you wish to have it without explaining what it will be used for.”

“It is better that way. For everyone. Trust me, my Lady. I wouldn’t be asking if this wasn’t important.”

Lady Fiona crossed her arms in front of her chest and spoke again, carefully considering her words. “Inquisitor, this is not a matter of whether I trust you. What I don’t trust is magic. _I know_ , a bold statement but a true one. I especially don’t trust magic that I don’t know much about.”

Lavellan knew she was right of course. What she was asking was beyond blind trust. Fiona had a responsibility towards the mages of the College and besides that, everyone and their mother knew that messing with the Fade was a very, _very_ bad idea.

“No harm will come to anyone willing to help, I swear it. Quite the opposite, actually. I fear that if I fail, more than just the Mages of the College will be in danger.”

“That almost sounded like a threat.”

“Perhaps. But not mine. This is bigger than me. Bigger than all of us.”

Fiona looked at the young elf, inquisitively. Curiosity had obviously gotten the better of her already but she wasn’t going to agree to such a task that easily. The Enchanter wasn’t a fool—that much she knew—and Lavellan knew what was troubling her right away. She could see it in her gleaming eyes, almost reading the words behind them.

“Very well. I do have one question left before I agree to this or not, Inquisitor.”

“Of course,” the Inquisitor nodded, attempting to sound as confident as she could.

“Is this about the Dread Wolf?”

“I pray that it isn’t, my Lady,” she said truthfully, as she heard the words in those eyes finally spoken. “I pray that it isn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew.  
> In this chapter, I talk about Skyhold's fate after the Trespasser DLC and what I think my Inquisitor canonically decided to do with it. Getting the College to settle in Skyhold seemed like a great idea to me, tbh and I hope you did, too. 
> 
> I would also like to say that in this fic I tried to keep things as canon as possible, both to the games in general but to my playthrough as well (e.g. My Inquisitor was a Rift Mage which I thought would make things more interesting.) I did A LOT of research even on very silly things in the DA universe to honor the canon lore. That being said, the distances traveled between certain places in the next chapters might get shortened a bit for plot reasons and I hope you don't mind much, huhu. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter!
> 
> (I would also love to know what you think would've canonically happened to Skyhold according to your "playthrough". Let me know if you feel like it!)


	7. Names unspoken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elven angst.

As the sun rose the third morning after her arrival at Skyhold, Lavellan grew weary. She had spent all that time in the chambers the College had granted her, reading tome after tome about anything that could help her bring her daughter back. The fortress now housed a library filled with books on magic, myth and legend, some of which had been graciously donated by a benevolent Magister in Tevinter. When she wasn’t flipping through rough, dusty pages in her bedroom, she’d spend time training with the young mages that were to assist her in the magical endeavor to come.

Her chambers were situated in a tower over the gate’s side of the fort’s walls. The mages had taken several architectural liberties in Skyhold after they’d settled, mostly consisting of extending already-existing towers and staircases. All changes seemed more practical than anything, considering the ever-growing number of residents, with the exception of some aesthetic flourishes sprinkled here and there for good measure. Mages from all over had slowly but steadily trickled in after the College settled there, families grew and people needed more space. As Lavellan walked down the fort’s allure, a somber realization crossed her mind looking down at the courtyard: There were hardly any elven people around. Aside from Fiona and a couple of library keepers she had encountered the days prior, she couldn’t seem to find many others around the hold. A long sigh escaped her lips as she thought of the reports on the city and Dalish elves disappearing from all over Thedas. They had abandoned masters and families alike, all in the name of Fen’Harel; the nightmare some of their parents had warned them about as kids. As promised, he had taken them after all. 

Lavellan shivered at the thought of these misguided elves following a false god to their deaths, the dark irony never escaping her. She wondered if these people knew of the man’s true nature and intentions. After all, they probably didn’t even know his name. It mattered little, however, since even those who did, never dared speak it. People that once considered him a friend—or, at the very least, an ally—didn’t use his name anymore, especially in Lavellan’s presence. And it bothered her. At first, when she started noticing that behavior, she considered the possibility that her friends simply didn’t want to upset her by mentioning his name. Sure, the majority might’ve not been aware of the fact that she had birthed his child but they definitely knew of the nature of their relationship and so their wariness could be excused. But what she really dreaded was the fact that some of her companions had buried their fond memories of Solas along with his name the day his betrayal had come to light. To them Solas was no more and the only one remaining was the menacing Wolf. Most of all, she dreaded that it was a sentiment she sometimes shared as well. She was the Inquisitor, tasked to lead people against all that threatened Thedas and even with Corypheus defeated, she still felt that burden. Besides, they may have not known it but even back then, the real villain—in Varric’s own words—had been right beside them all along and it was none other than Solas. Just like it was now, seven years later. It was her duty to do anything in her power to eliminate that threat. But unfortunately for her, Lavellan was not just the Inquisitor but a woman as well; a woman that had fallen in love with the person everyone despised. Growing up as a little girl in the northern Free Marches, nothing could have prepared her for the sheer agony of having to choose between her duty to the people of the whole world and her duty to her feelings towards the man she loved. 

While a war was constantly raging in her heart, another one was brewing in Thedas, neither of which she could ignore but her priorities currently lay elsewhere. She was a woman and she was the Inquisitor but most of all, she was a mother now. And she had to find her child.

Cole approached her as soon as she reached the gardens. His expression betrayed nothing but if she had to hazard a guess, she would say that he knew exactly how distraught she was. Even after his transition to a human, Lavellan knew that he still felt people’s pain. She hated being around him at times, only because she knew that her pain hurt him, too. No one—not even a spirit of compassion—deserved to feel the way she did. Cole had learned to ‘deal’ with other people's emotions over the years, so as to know when to speak of it or not but the fact that he experienced their pain as his own, remained. 

Before she had the chance to greet him, Cole swiftly wrapped her in his arms. Lavellan remained in place, stunned as the young boy deepened his embrace.

“Good m-morning?" Lavelan mumbled, taken aback. 

Cole didn't move. He spoke no words and just continued hugging the flustered elf.

"Cole…?"

With that, he stepped back and looked at her. A tiny smile formed at his face that resembled childish glee. 

"Maryden said that hugs help people when their sad. Either by comforting them or by making them uneasy," he said, matter-of-factly.

"How does making one uneasy help him feel better?"

"Feeling embarrassed in the moment makes them forget what they were thinking about."

Lavellan was stunned by the boy's logic. His mind worked in mysterious and fascinating ways as usual. And to be fair, he was right. The distraction had worked and she was already feeling better.

"Lady Inquisitor!"

A familiar Skyhold guard interrupted the two. He was almost out of breath, as if he had ran up and down the fort looking for her. And that, she realized, was probably exactly what had happened. 

"Yes?"

The guard took a few breaths in before he spoke. "There is a man at the gate. He's looking for you."

She looked at the poor guy and furrowed her brows. Who could possibly be looking for her in Skyhold? Dorian was probably in Tevinter by now and Thom was probably days away from her as well. No one else knew where she was so who in the world was this?

"Who is it?" she asked, trying to remain calm. She wasn't.

"Some elven man, Ser. He didn't give a name. Only said that he is family."

Lavellan immediately tensed up. Family? The relationship with her clan could currently be described as...interesting. She had gone from being the Keeper's First, to the blasphemous Inquisitor that had removed her vallaslin. Being the clan’s First complicated things even further, especially after Haven. As a valuable member of both the Inquisition and the Dalish clan she was from, Lavellan was eventually forced to choose one over the other. It wasn’t realistic for anyone to be in two places at once but at the same time, her role as Deshanna’s First wasn’t exactly something that you could abandon. As one of the few mages in it and also a direct descendant of the founder, Lavellan’s fate was sealed after she manifested her powers. Ultimately, she feared retribution but it never came. There were still some clan members that were unsure what to make of her but in the eyes of most, she was no less one of them than she was before. As the clan—with the support of one handsome Viscount in Kirkwall—got involved with Wycome’s government and abandoned their nomadic ways, the Lavellan elves had better things to worry about. Like the growing numbers of Fen’Harel’s elven supporters. The Inquisitor had made sure to warn them about the situation, considering their new, shaky political foothold. All in all, Lavellan and her clan had managed to co-exist peacefully through the years and continued to care for each other but...from a distance, both literally and figuratively. Which made her wonder who could possibly be looking for her and why in Skyhold.

“Take me to him.”

The Inquisitor was shaking and it wasn’t from the cold. Escorted by the guard and Cole, she made her way to the gate. There, behind a dozen of heavily armed guards she saw the unbelievable. 

“On'vun'in, Lavellan.”

A Dalish man stood in front of her, surrounded by staffs and swords. His long, blonde hair fell on his dark shoulders in elegant braids and his eyes shone in a deep green that reminded her of spring in the Dales. Andruil's bow adorned the familiar man’s face in dark ink and betrayed his Dalish heritage.

Lavellan’s face went white in recognition. Because this man looked very much alive. 

She gestured to the guards that were holding him to release him. “Let him through,” she said, still wide-eyed.

The male elf dropped everything that he was carrying as soon as he was through the gates and wrapped the frozen Lavellan in a bone-crushing embrace. 

“It’s been a long time, sister. I’ve missed you.”

In a daze still, she slowly returned the hug and buried her head in the crook of his neck.

“You—are alive?” she uttered in true disbelief.

The man put some space between them, hands firmly on her shoulders. He gave her an amused look and laughed. “Are you disappointed?” 

“Nellas! They told me you died! Years ago!”

Lavellan was being loud and a crowd was starting to form around them. She glanced back and forth between confused Skyhold residents and her friend. “Come with me.”

She led Nellas to Herald's Rest and was pleased to see that Sera’s old room was still there and had been vacated. Lavellan pushed him inside and closed the door behind her.

“What are you doing here, Nellas and most importantly, how are you here?”

“Okay, who told you I was dead in the first place?!” Nellas asked and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I haven’t seen you in ages and—what is this paranoia you’re giving me? Where are we?”

“In the land of the living. Both of us. I think.”

He rolled his eyes. “Trust me I am very much alive. And very much confused.”

“As am I! When you disappeared, I sought out your family through my Keeper. I was worried. And then—”

“Deshanna? She told you I was dead?!”

“No,” Lavellan shook her head, “she gave me a letter that said I should not ask for you anymore and that you were dead! I wanted to talk to your clan but Deshanna told me they had already moved out of the Free Marches.”  
“Wow,” Nellas let out a gasp in exasperation, “they went a bit too far.”

“What—”

“I was banished by the clan, sister. I guess that tells you how much they thought of me,” he snorted. “But to go so far as to call me dead? Wow.”

“They...banished you? Oh, Nellas. I hope—I mean, was it because of me?”

Nellas reached to caress her left cheek and then gave it a playful pinch. “Don’t be silly. It had nothing to do with you. 

He’s carefree expression rapidly changed into one of pain. Lavellan noticed it and mirrored him with a frown of her own.

“My clan…” he swallowed harshly, “I told them everything. And for a while they seemed rather accepting of it all.” He paced around the small room for a few seconds and then settled on a large pillow behind him. Lavellan followed.

“I was always a trouble maker and you know it,” he continued as his old friend nodded. “This...life the clan had planned for me was not what I wanted.”

“You said they were okay with it though.”

Nellas chuckled. “Well, not with all of it.”

“All of it? Not just that you liked men?”

“No, that was the part they were mostly okay with. But then I told them I wanted to leave.”

Lavellan was dumbstruck. “What?!” she exclaimed. “Leave? Whatever for? And why is this the first time I’m hearing of such a thing?!” 

“Look,” he started as his friend regarded him curiously, “Life in the dales wasn’t for me. If I stayed there, my future could have looked like one of two things: either I would have been bonded to some poor woman from some friendly clan and expected to have a couple of little magical elflings to ‘elevate the clan’ or I would be expected to serve one way or the other as a mage. I wasn’t keen on either.”

“Well, good to know.”

“Oh, come now. You know I didn’t mean it like that. I just wanted to do other things in my life. To learn about other cultures and travel to faraway places. This world has so many things to offer outside of living your whole life stuck in the same place with the same people. I wanted to be free.”

“A risky sentiment nowadays for an elf,” Lavellan noted.

“So I’ve heard.”

“You have?” 

“Yes. Actually, that is part of the reason I sought you out, sister. I—”

Nella’s words were cut off by a knock on the room’s door.

“Lady Inquisitor.”

She recognized the voice behind the door. It was the guard that had informed her of Nellas' arrival earlier.

“Come in.”

The guard looked at the two elves sitting on the floor of the room surrounded by large pillows but didn’t make any comments. Instead, he handed Lavellan a piece or rolled paper and left. She rolled it around her hands and looked at the seal on the parchment.

“What is it?” Nellas asked.

Without answering him she pulled on the red wax and read the letter. It was written in a code. The Inner Circle had established it after the events of the Exalted Council and Solas’ revelation about spies existing inside the Inquisition. They had agreed to use the code in all written communication between them but it had been a while since Lavellan had to read any. It took her minute to translate but it read:

_Inquisitor,_

_As you can imagine, I am finding it difficult to comprehend the news you have brought my way. And of course, being ambushed by a known fugitive asking for my help wasn’t the best start to my day to say the least. I will not pretend to understand the reasons behind your actions the past few years, simply because I cannot. Aiding a criminal is one thing but hiding the child is another. Rainier explained the situation and I suspect the lack of information he gave me was at your behest. I have agreed to keep silent on the matter for now but if the situation is as dire as it was presented to me, I believe there are people that we should tell. I wish you luck in Skyhold and beg you to inform me immediately should anything go awry. I’m headed to Val Royeaux for now so you know where to find me._

_P.S. Talk to Varric. I just received a message about some books you were interested in. He also said something about the Qunari but I couldn’t make it out._

_Maker be with you._

The letter wasn’t signed but she knew it was from none other than Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast. 

“Everything alright?”

With a little bit of fire magic, Lavellan swiftly turned the small piece of paper into ash. Nellas was visibly taken aback by her action.

“Yes,” is all she said back.

“Was it a love letter? Too embarrassing to share?” he joked.

She chuckled. “There was definitely some love in it.”

“Ooh,” Nellas whistled mischievously. “Yara has a boyfriend!”

Hearing her name for the first time in what seemed like a decade, Lavellan stilled. It was an odd sensation. She wondered who was the last person to ever call her by her real name but it had been too long to remember anymore. It felt foreign but warm and familiar at the same time. Yara. What cruel foreshadowing, she thought, to have a name like that.

“Nellas…”

“Hmm?” he shifted in place, brushing some of his long hair out of his face.

“I might need your help with something.”

“Anything,” he said and smiled at his beloved friend. “You name it and I’m yours.”

“I hope you won’t regret your choice of words, brother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elven Notes:  
> >On'vun'in=Good day  
> >Nellas=he who brings joy  
> >Yara=he/she that will rise or he/she that will stand for us
> 
> \--------------
> 
> I hope the chapter wasn't too confusing. Let me know what you thought about it and about Nellas, the original character in this chapter. :)  
> Shit is about to go down in the next two chapters btw so stay tuned ;)


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